MarinaNova Asylum

My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix 01 and I am 25 years of age. I am a Human-Borg Hybrid, a female of the Human species, and my last known coordinates were located in a region of space approximately 65,000 lightyears from Earth. The year was 2375. I have been imprisoned since Day 184.

[ she opts against stating that her name is annika hansen, despite giving it out to a few people. data. caroline. and saying that she's a human-borg hybrid is a simpler, condensed version of what she is and an explanation she tires of providing. ]

I have shared this information about myself in order to provide that which I am about to ask. In order to better understand the correlation between various worlds, dimensions, and timelines present, more data needs to be collected. Please answer the following questions:

What is your name? How old are you? What is your species? What was your location prior to your imprisonment? What was the year? On which day did you arrive?

Thank you for your time and cooperation. It is... most appreciated. [ click. ]

[There was something that had been on the Doctor's mind for a while now and he was unsure how he should go about asking. It was a rather big step for the two of them, bigger than anything they'd done before. Much bigger than promising forever. Well, it seemed like that for him at any rate, though really it was sort of the same thing, at least inside the prison.

So he'd decided to make a big to-do about it and came to the conclusion he should make dinner and try for a proper date before he asked Rose.]

It's a surprise! Come back in a few hours. [He'd told Rose before shooing her out of her/their flat, locking the door behind her so he'd have complete privacy to make his feast.

Unfortunately cooking was not his strong suit.]

[ The feed comes on and we're greeted with the sight of a bed-headed Ferris Bueller, his t-shirt and pajama pants obscured by a tremendously fluffy bathrobe, sitting on the edge of the bed in his room. ]

Hi, good morning. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Ferris Bueller, and I'm about to monopolize this particular feed on your headgear for the day. Sorry about that, but I haven't been given much of a choice in the matter.

[ As he speaks, he stands up and starts walking - out of the bedroom and down the hallway of his apartment. ]

I know what you're thinking, here I am, chatting you up, letting you know I'm going to keep this going all day, and denying any responsibility whatsoever. It sounds sketchy, like I just like hearing myself talk. Well, I do like hearing myself talk, I'm not going to lie about that. I think you should like hearing yourself talk, because if there's one voice you're going to hear a lot of in your life, it's your own. Seems like you might as well get comfortable with it.

But back to the topic at hand, no, I'm not just doing this to hear myself talk all day long. Even a good thing wears thin after a while, and frankly, I'm not sure how much mileage my vocal cords are going to give me before I go all croaky on you.

[ And he clears his throat, making a tiny croaking noise. ]

I'll apologize for that in advance, too, just in case. Anyway, it so turns out that here, if the wardens don't know who committed a crime and they think it's physically possible that you could have committed said crime, even if you didn't, you're guilty until proven innocent. Under most circumstances, I'd act like that's some kind of appalling shock, that I simply cannot bring myself to believe the gross injustice of assuming the worst of everyone - but it's not like I could very well claim to be surprised by that kind of attitude, given the circumstances under which they brought us all here to begin with. Not exactly a massive stretch of the imagination.

Which brings us to the next phase of the wardens thinking you did something: punishment. It so turns out that my particular punishment is... well, this. Broadcasting my day - all day. The wardens say they want me to show that I have nothing to hide, and to be totally honest with you, I don't particularly mind. I've always been what most might call an open, sharing individual. So here you go - wardens, my fellow abductees, and eavesdropping deep-sea life - FerrisVision, your all-day, all-access connection to Ferris Bueller, who has nothing to hide.

[ He pauses here, at the bathroom door, and arches a brow, one sly little smirk. ]

Well. Almost nothing to hide. You stay out here, kids.

[ And he removes the headpiece, perching it so it has a near-perfect view of a hula dancer sitting in front of his stereo. He turns said stereo on, playing London Calling. ]

I'll leave you with some company.

[ And he flicks the hula girl before he walks off to the bathroom, making her dance for anyone watching. At least until she loses momentum, anyway. ]


[ ooc: So Ferris is broadcasting, open and unfiltered, all day long. Which means that if you interact with him, it will be on the network. Which means no privacy at all. He'll also be out and about in the dome later, so FEEL FREE to run into him. Of course, if you hit him up in action, your character will appear on his video feed. Threadjacking anything is obviously fair game, given the nature of the post and his "punishment". It remains to be seen, but I might do one or more additional post(s) with him later on in the dayweek. ]

Video

[Anyone remember seeing that white creature moving around the dome yesterday? Well, try as you might, you aren't going to find it. At least that is the hope.

However, a late introduction from someone who didn't seem to be around yesterday. M'gann has her restraint off and her powers are back! So have a red-headed freckle faced girl over communicator]

Good morning everyone. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I managed to find a few friends of mine so they were helping me get settled in. My name is Megan Morse.

This is some place, isn't it? I wouldn't think there would be so much in a prison. Apartment buildings, pets, it's amazing. I looked at the map, but I really need to get out and see what else is here. I'd rather not be in a prison, but for having to be in one, this isn't too bad.

Also it is normal for there to be days where there are food carts? I can't wait to try some of the pastries the warden was talking about.

[ooc: Action is also available for Young Justice crew at the apartment]

[It’s very late at night in the prison, if anyone is still awake or out and about. Were anyone to pass through Sector 0 they might find an older gentleman in his Starfleet uniform sitting on a bench in the recreation area. He’s quiet and still, somewhat unassuming. He might even be mistaken for peaceful from far away. But were anyone to come closer, they’d find that he has somewhat of a perplexed look on his face, troubled or thoughtful perhaps. And his gaze is turned up to the top of the dome. Obviously he’s not as peaceful as it might initially seem.]

[Wherever you go, there they are—sneaky and hidden and biding their time, waiting until they find you all two by two, and then closing in. Happy Mistletoe Day!]

(OOC: Read this for all the details.)

ooc ► taking a page out of lena's book and putting up top comments for all three of mine in one convenient post to avoid spamming the comm. feel free to hit any of my ladies up. previous cr is not required, as new cr is always, always welcome! ♥

Quinn Fabray | Glee → Out shopping at stores in Sectors 1, 2, and 3.
Seven of Nine | Star Trek: Voyager → Following the bots around the dome.
Sookie Stackhouse | True Blood → Waitressing at Merlotte's in Sector 4.

[ you can find amy exploring - as usual. she knows at some point she needs to get a job (as long as it isn't being a kiss-o-gram), but she'll worry about that later. after all she isn't convinced she'll be here long enough to need one - she will get out, somehow.

amy isn't in the best of moods today. she's grumpy, very grumpy. she's also tired. not to mention she's scottish and a ginger, so she may have a wee bit of a temper. she also isn't sure what to make of this "holiday" business - it all seems a little fishy to her. spiritual needs, were they kidding!?you may or may not want to approach with caution. ]

[There was a bit of a mail delay with PM's disappearance, but everyone on the team should have gotten a letter this morning. By noon the roof of the new Defense Force headquarters is ready for guests. It isn't exactly decked out, but there is a long table with finger-foods: small sandwiches, fruits, and hors d'oevres as well as sweets like cupcakes and truffles. An arrangement of sodas and bottled waters sits on one end next to an enclosed punch dispenser. Sorry, no spiking the punch, kids. There are also small standing tables around the edges. The only real seating comes in the form of benches along the sides. The point is to get to know the rest of the team, not to sit and eat, so this suits Kitty just fine. They can thank Lacus for the fact that there is food at all and that things have been arranged in such a way to promote circulation.

She waits until it seems like most everyone has drifted in and calls for their attention while perching herself up on the wall itself. No fear of heights here.]

( Kitty's state of the force address )

[Once she's done, she hops down. The mixing can continue for as long as people want provided they still handle their sectors.]

(OOC: See marinanova_df for details on the force. Roster. To join. Everyone on the DF and anyone they brought is welcome. Curious passers by likely won't be tossed out. Try your luck!)


[Private video to Dirk, Jake, and Roxy (who isn't here, but she doesn't know that)]
Thanks for the invitation. [Which she read a little late. Sleepovers at Reid's can do that to a girl.]

[ this afternoon finds seven of nine on her way to acquire nutritional supplements -- something to eat. she's made herself a list of the various nutrients the doctor would encourage her to consume on a weekly, if not daily basis back on voyager, awkwardly written on a pad of yellow paper by a hand not accustomed to literally writing things down. she nearly drops it when something unseen catches her off guard, and in her haste -- after nearly tapping her combadge out of habit -- she doesn't lock the feed. ]

The proximity transceiver in my cranial implant has reasserted itself. [ it was supposed to be neutralized for good in the wake of the past year's events. ] I have adapted.

[Visual opens on a dark skinned woman who looks peeved, but talks with a hint of amusement.]
I like the color orange as well as the next person. But really now? Clothing me in it from head to toe? That's a bit much.

[Her face turns hard now.] I've had a really bad day and I don't need to add this as icing on the cake. You'd really do much better to let me go right now.

After four days to settle himself in and one massive celebration, the Doctor decided to venture out to do some exploring, particularly in Sector 2. He'd gotten up extra early for it, trying his hardest not to wake Rose up while shuffling around her flat. Well, their flat really, but it'd been her first and he wasn't used to the idea of it being his as well. He hoped she didn't mind, as he wasn't going to Sector 6. He'd promised.

At least he made breakfast first? It wasn't much. Just a bunch of burnt toast all laid out for her enjoyment.

With a fresh suit and a pair of trainers, the Doctor headed out into the city. First thing was first; locate the area he'd been told about and ask for Kitty Pryde.

Happy Anniversary, Marina Nova!

The bots have been busy cleaning up the dome and setting up decorations for this momentous occasion, and by now there isn't a nook or cranny left un-pimped! Bright blue MarinaNova flags wave happily in the artificial breeze together with the colorful ribbons that have been wrapped around poles. The streets are illuminated by strings of lights and paper lanterns and each sector gate has been lovingly decorated with fragrant flower garlands.

Of course, that is far from all! There wouldn't be much of a festival without entertainment and your loving wardens have made absolutely sure that there's something for everyone!

( Let the celebrations begin! )

Enjoy!

[Jack's been here a couple of hours. He spent the first hour disbelieving and furious, but wary of letting that show too much after his initial, instinctive bout of yelling – which he didn't broadcast, although sorely tempted to, because he's been kidnapped before and he doesn't want to get in too much trouble until he knows far better what he's up against. So he kept his head down and started exploring to get the lay of the land and find out what he had to work with here.

[And then he found the beach. He'd never lost his love of the sea from growing up beside an ocean, and he was out of the horrible orange jumpsuit and into the water before he'd even thought about it. Even if the waves and the sun on his back weren't quite natural, an hour or so of vigorous swimming calmed him down a lot. Enough to make his first transmission on the network with a decent amount of composure and a fair imitation of his normal cocky grin.

[He's still naked, by the way. It's kind of lucky (or maybe not, depending on your point of view) that the video doesn't extend below the waist. Not that Jack cares what you see. He's sprawled on the beach, the waves breaking gently behind him, feeling the sun on his tanned skin, and he's smiling. After all these years of practice, it's a pretty convincing smile.]

So. MarinaNova. [He rolls the name around his mouth, trying it out.] What've we got? Any hot babes here? Or hot guys – I'm really not picky. Maybe some Italian stud who actually looks good in orange? There'd better be something good to pass the time if I'm supposed to be here for the rest of my life!

[ the feed starts off shaky, and there are the muffled sounds of someone trying to set it up. when it finally comes into focus there is a very annoyed looking ginger on the screen. ]

Oh are you in for it now. You are in so much trouble.

[ she's not sure the "you" is exactly, but it won't stop her from saying it. she's angry, and more importantly she's confused. maybe even a little scared. why is she in a prison of all places? the last thing she remembers is being at stonehenge.

her expression changes slightly, although only someone who knows her would notice. ]

Doctor? Are you here?

[ she tries to think, tries to remember. there had been romans. roman centurions . and rory. rory had been there. rory her fantastic, and wonderful boyfriend. he had been crying. why had he been crying? she had been crying too and then he had shot her.

he had shot her. was she ...dead? ]

Rory?

[The broadcast begins in voice only. Briefly there's the sound of static, followed by the sounds of fumbling.]

Oi!

[Finally the video feed clicks on, revealing the face of yet another pissed off new prisoner. Well, maybe a not so new face, but still a new arrival. He mutters something to himself in an alien language, taking a moment to look at his lovely new duds and anklet again before looking seriously into the camera.]

Of all the beings here, I probably deserve this the most. But, I want you to think about just one thing. Do you really want to see what happens with a confined Time Lord?

[Look at that! He's already lying. Well, stretching the truth a little bit. Now that he's finished threatening the wardens, he moves on to another topic. His expression softens a bit and he smirks.]

Now as I understand it, doing anything short of looking at someone wrong lands you here. Chances are I already know some of you. Apparently I have that effect on people. [He chuckles] Anyone match that description?

Well.

[ a long-suffering sigh, a tongue's click. ]

If you're really that interested in dealing judgment across worlds, I have some names to recommend.

[ Rose is in the education center with some notebook paper, a pen and a stack of books that aren't doing her much good. She looks tired and she has her fingertips pressed hard against her temple. She's got a monster of a headache, but she shows no sign of leaving off whatever sort of research she's intent on doing. The notebook paper is covered in scribbles, some of them equations, but most of them just fragments of sentences. She sighs and looks up from her work.]

Those of you that knew the Doctor, he's gone back to where ever he came from. Fortunate really. He didn't like it here much. The whole bein' trapped bit of things.

'm sure this question has been asked a hundred times, but there's anybody here who knows somethin' 'bout travel between dimensions? Or travel to other planets?

[voice]

I suppose I'd better ask: am I the only one seeing things? People, mostly, out of corner of my eye. People who are -- people I know are long, long dead. [ His voice is choked with emotion. ] All of them, every single one. [ He's quiet a long moment. ]

Is this one of the warden's games? [ Now his voice is rising, strident and angry. ] Is this fun for you, or are you simply so busy rebooting that you can't keep track of who's here and who isn't? Is this a system glitch? [ He's practically shouting now. ] It's not funny!

[ He stops abruptly, for an even longer moment. He mutters something before shutting it off. ] Now it feels like prison.

[ ooc: Anyone wanting to watch the Doctor in his frustration is welcome to an action thread just about anywhere you'd like in the dome. He's seeing lots and lots of dead Timelords, so he might not be the best company. ]

( [voice; closed to Rose] )

[The Blood Shack has been redecorated for the evening. The lighting is red and the decor is very Moulin Rouge. The bar has had a facelift of sorts and in the spirit of a costume party is featuring 'candy' flavored shots such as Skittles, Sweet tarts, Caramel Apples, Nerds and Tootsie Rolls. All other 'normal' drinks are available at the bar as well as a selection of synthetic blood. The decor continues in the seating arrangements. The entire room, including the dance floor, stage and platform where Eric's throne sits is bathed in red light. Lording over the entire affair is Eric, dressed as a Viking king. Instead of the helm, he's got a crown made of gold foil and cardboard. His weapons are the plastic sort and he's opted to go bare chested rather than attempting to make any sort of chain mail. He has a faux polar bear throw across his shoulders and is wearing a long, blond wig as well as a fake beard.

Enjoy, mingle and come as you want to be.]


ooc:: Mingle, start threads and make general merriment. This is all pre-blackout. On Thursday evening, I will put up a post blackout thread. Any questions? Let me know